Irreparably Broken
by theoriginalmcgoo
Summary: A series of insights into Santana's life and her relationship with Brittany. Oneshot. Angst. SPOILERS: All of season 2


**[Authors Note]**

**Just a little oneshot thingy, but still horribly angsty, so I am sorry.**

**I don't own Glee. At all. None of it.**

She's only young, sixteen years old, but beautiful, and at the same time, horribly broken. She used to try to make people see her for who she is, but all they saw was the trash around her feet. Once, in her mind she would fly away, seeing the whole world, yet never leaving home. It was that which kept the worries of her world away.

But something happened. She grew up. Friends moved on, people decided she wasn't worth their time. The world in her head became less and less of a substance to feed off. Her Father greets her every morning, cold and distant, yet reminding her how much she looks like her mother. She smiles, as her stomach turns inside. Her mother is not who she wants to be. Washed up and permanently high, off the substances she aquires weekly.

Somehow though, her ever disintegrating family, could not drain all of the life from her. One person, was always able to keep her head in the clouds as well as her feet firmly planted on the ground. Her blond-haired, bubbly, childishly innocent best friend, who held her close through the nights when her mother acted out, listened to her cry for hours (Brittany is the only person Santana will ever let see her cry) about how she wants to be noticed, to be really loved and whispers "I love you" in the still of the night, when Santana is breathing deeply beside her, oblivious to her words.

Brittany was always there, until she wasn't. And maybe it was Santana's fit of gay panic, which thrust her from the Latina's arms, and into those of a cripple.

And without her blonde counterpart, she's useless. Brittany was the likeable one in their two piece, and Santana on her own is just damaged goods.

When Santana was ten, she encountered her mothers final release from the world. Slipping from the drug-induced haze, into the cold, dark reality of death. It didn't faze her though. Not once, from the death itself through to the funeral, not once did Santana cry. She stood at her bedroom window as the car holding her mothers body reversed out of her driveway, coffin clearly visible, and accelerated off. She felt nothing, but still, at the funeral, she didn't stop Brittany when she slipped her pale hand into Santana's darker one, and squeezed tight, indicating she was there. It didn't stop her from relishing in the nights when Brittany held her close, to help her throughout the non-existent pain.

But even experiences like that weren't enough to hold a friendship together, after it had gone further, resulting in one of the two claiming she felt no love for the other. Which was exactly what happened.

Their first kiss happened just several months after Santana's mother's death. It was approaching midnight, both girls lying in Santana's bed. Santana lay, staring at the ceiling, matching her breathing with Brittany's, which was slow and even. Events of earlier months had been long forgotten when Santana revealed to the darkness in a hushed whisper that she had never felt loved by her mother. The blonde beside her stirred, turning on her side so she was facing Santana.

"It's okay" she whispered, "You still have me. I love you"

And with that she closed the gap between them, pulling Santana closer with their loosely entwined hands pressing their lips together. It was nothing spectacular, just soft and chaste, before Brittany placed one more kiss to the darker girls forehead, with a quiet, "Go back to sleep, I'll still be here"

And so it happened, their relationship progressed, kisses grew more heated and brought about wandering hands, which led to each of the girls screaming the others name in ecstasy, using a pillow to muffle the sound, followed by "I love you"'s murmured in the dead of night. Right up until that fateful incident with the "sweet lady kisses", where everything just went wrong.

Brittany was with Artie now, even though her and Santana still got their mack on regularly, which was fine, until she wanted to talk about feelings. There was a reason Santana didn't cry after her mother died. She knew that feelings made everything harder, which is why the last place she wanted to be was in the choir room, practically confessing her real feelings for Brittany, while tearing up in front of the Glee club.

Which was fine, really, until she's standing alone in her room, staring at the mirror on the wall with such horror, because of what she sea's. Her mother's face, staring back at her, more vivid and real than in any of the pictures shows her exactly what's happening. She's morphing into a more twisted, more closed off version of the woman she despised for so many years.

The same woman who shrugged it off when her daughter requested a boob job, secretly hoping she would be refused, be told she was fine as she was. But Santana should have known her mother better. So it went ahead. The operation went fine, no complications and she awoke the morning after to find Brittany asleep in the plastic chair beside her, their hands clasped tightly together. Santana made a move to sit up, which woke Brittany from her apparently light slumber.

"You know" she mumbles, in her half asleep state, spare hand tracing lightly over Santana's new appendages, "I thought you were perfect as you were"

It was another one of those moments, which now required both hands to count, where Brittany was the only one that mattered. It was because of her that Santana found herself replying

"I wish you'd told me that before"

So everything Santana did in her life, with and without Brittany, was leading up to this moment. She makes her way down the halls the day after her realisation, knowing full well what she's about to do. She doesn't doubt for a moment that it's going to change everything. Although, with the benefit of hindsight, she thinks that any hope she had then was delusional.

She approaches Brittany's locker with a quiet greeting, before starting her speech. The very speech she rehearsed so many times last night, whispering it to the walls repeatedly, hoping they would listen.

"What I've realised, is why I'm such a bitch all the time. I'm a bitch because I'm angry. I'm angry because I have all of these feelings." She glances sideways to make sure no one is listening before continuing "Feelings for you, that I'm afraid of dealing with because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences." She breathes in deeply, trying to prevent her voice from cracking "I wanna be with you, but I'm afraid of the talks and the looks. I'm so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back, still I have to accept, that I love you." After saying it once, it doesn't seem so bad to say it once more. "I love you and I don't want to be with S-Sam or Finn, or any of those other guys. I just want you. Please say you love me back, please." She hates the desperation in her voice, as tears freely fall down her face, streaking her make-up. She knows how vulnerable she is right now. She's given Brittany her heart, which she can either treasure, or stomp all over. And stomp all over it is what she does. With extra assistance from roller boy.

Which is what lead to this. Santana, back in a hospital. A mental one this time, after seeing Artie with Brittany one too many times. And she's spiralling out of control, and she doesn't know what to do. She spends weeks at a time wandering the corridors of the grey building numbly, wishing she had someone there to actually help. But she doesn't. Because the only person who was ever able to help her through times like this, is now the cause, and it's getting worse every day.

She's only young, sixteen years old. She's beautiful, but horribly and irreparably broken.

**[Authors note] **

**So was it any good? Reviews are always appreciated :)**


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